


Heartbeats

by simpleandpure22



Series: Everything in Between [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: His feeling for Andre is not just a phase.But that doesn't mean Jonas knows what to do about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took so long to write, I'm sorry. But at least it's another longer one. :D

It’s that time of the month again. International break, which means an almost empty weight room, and quieter changing room amongst other things. Nobody would forget that it has started, like there’s no way Jonas would miss the absence of thirteen people. Patrick is right behind him when he pushes the weight room door open, but then someone—Lars—calls his name and he stops. Jonas glances at them through his shoulder for a second before entering the room.

There are only two other people in there: Tony and… Andre. And it looks like Tony is done with whatever exercise he was doing and is about to leave. _Fantastic._ But at least Patrick and maybe, hopefully, Lars will join them soon. Tony smiles at him on his way out, and then Jonas is left alone with Andre. Something he has managed to avoid these past days. It’s bad enough to realise that his feeling isn’t going anywhere; he doesn’t need to make it harder for himself, and being alone with Andre definitely belongs to that category.

But now he can’t get himself out of it. _Come on, Flaco, Lars, anyone._ Where are people when he needs them? As Andre spots him, Jonas forces a smile and walks across the room towards where the spinning bikes are—where Andre is. It would look weird if he chose one far away from him, so Jonas places his water bottle on the bike next to Andre’s and mounts it after adjusting the height of the seat.

“International break again,” Jonas starts, trying to sound neutral. “You can see it from the number of free bikes.”

“Tell me about it. At least today I didn’t have to push Mo off one,” Andre replies.

That makes Jonas chuckle. Mo loves bikes. If Jonas didn’t find him on a bike in the weight room for one day he’d be very surprised. “Ah, Mo. I hope he’s doing well with the U21.” This is good, it feels safe enough. Being next to Andre means he doesn’t have to look at him. “Playing for the U21 was a lot of fun, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Andre says softly.

Jonas inwardly curses himself. How the hell could he forget that Andre never played for the youth teams? And once again he didn’t get a call up for the _A-Mannschaft_ , despite everyone said he should. Now Jonas feels a bit bad. “Sorry,” he says in a low voice. He shouldn’t have mentioned the national team.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Andre smile. “Don’t worry about it. If it’s about me not getting a call up, I’m used to it by now,” he jokes. Then his voice gets more serious as he goes on, “I’m not gonna lie though, I still want to play for the national team. If I play as well as I did at the end of last season, maybe I’ll have a chance. Who knows?”

“But you already do.” Jonas turns to look at him, forgetting he’s not supposed to do that. He quickly realises his mistake when Andre’s blue eyes meet his. Like before, Jonas is aware of how his heartbeat quickens, and a familiar, stupid, warm feeling is crawling in his chest.

Andre parts his lips slightly but doesn’t say anything. Jonas blinks once, and then one more time, mentally urging himself to say something—any bloody thing—but he can think of none. Perhaps they would stay like that longer if Patrick, Lars, and Juli didn’t walk in.

The cavalry; thank goodness. Jonas takes the chance to grab his water bottle and drink almost half of the content. He catches Juli eye each of them in turn before subtly raising his eyebrows, but Jonas ignores it. Instead, he chooses to stare at his display. When he hears someone call Andre’s name some time later, he almost jumps off his bike.

It’s Dirk, one of their physiotherapists. He wants to talk to Andre about the light pain he felt on his thigh the other day. Andre gets off the bike and follows him out of the room. Just as Jonas thinks he can breathe normally again, Juli climbs on the bike that Andre left.

“Everything okay with you?” he asks.

Jonas glances at Patrick and Lars, who are training with the exercise balls on the other side of the room. They won’t hear a thing. “I’m good.”

“You looked kinda flustered when we walked in.”

“What did you expect, Mr Know-it-all?” Jonas hisses, trying hard to keep his voice down. He knows Juli means well, but he’s had enough. When Juli doesn’t reply, guilt starts to creep in. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just… really not in the mood for this.”

Juli cracks a smile. “It’s okay.”

Silence falls between them, but it’s not uncomfortable; vaguely Jonas can hear Patrick and Lars laugh about something.

“You were right,” Jonas murmurs after a moment. “This phase… it’s not like what I thought it was. It’s only getting worse.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Juli’s voice is sympathetic.

Jonas has asked himself the same question. “I don’t know. Hoping it will eventually go away, maybe. Probably. What else can I do, when he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“But how do you know he doesn’t? Maybe he does.”

 _Maybe..._ Jonas thinks about how Andre looked at him before Juli, Patrick, and Lars came. And the almost-kiss-in-the-dark a while ago. And there’s what happened near the pool. Their faces were close, and Andre dropped him off all of a sudden before taking a few steps back.

Maybe he does.

But that doesn’t make Jonas feel better.

~*~

Andre winces when he sits down on the bench in the changing room. He just showered and changed. His upper lip still throbs uncomfortably as he fights the urge to press something on it. He’s going to need some more ice packs. During the match with all the adrenaline going he didn’t feel much pain, but now the feeling of discomfort is taking over.

Someone, Oscar, walks out of the shower. He grins at Andre. “You scared me out there,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah.” Andre shrugs. “I was lucky it was near the end of the first half.” Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to keep playing, since the cut was quite deep it needed some stitches. Adler apologised to him twice. The first time Andre was still too livid that he brushed him off. Then after the match the goalkeeper came to him again, saying said he was genuinely sorry, and this time Andre accepted the apology.

“You did well,” Oscar says kindly.

“Thanks. Apart from missing the penalty,” Andre replies, making Oscar grin again.

Some more guys walk out of the shower; one of them is Jonas. Andre’s eyes are automatically drawn to him as he walks towards his shelf. A towel is wrapped around his waist and his hair is dripping wet. He pulls a smaller towel from the shelf, using it to dry his hair, then he sits down on the bench opposite Andre. A faint smile crosses his lips when he notices that Andre is looking at him.

“How is your lip?” Jonas asks, and despite the noise Andre hears him perfectly.

“Unpleasant, but it’ll be fine,” he says. “It could have been worse.”

He sees Jonas nod thoughtfully. A number of people walk in front of him, blocking him from Andre’s view, and when they’re gone Jonas has stood up. He puts the smaller towel on the bench and his fingers move to the one on his waist, about to untie the knot. But then he stops and looks over his shoulder, and Andre realises that his eyes are still on him. He softly clears his throat and averts his gaze to the row of plastic cups on the table. Thankfully Nico comes and asks him about his lip (like everyone else has) and as he glances back at Jonas a while later, he is fully dressed.

“See you on Tuesday,” Jonas says to no one in particular and walks towards the exit in fast steps.

Andre follows him with his eyes until he disappears behind the door. “See you,” he murmurs, also to no one in particular.

~*~

It has been a really long day. He should be exhausted by now, and yet he is wide awake.

Jonas leans on the headboard as he sits down on the bed, looking at the tall glass window every now and then. He lets the curtains open because the lights, that come from the city outside, look nice. A glance at the clock on the wall shows it’s almost half past ten, which means Andre can be here any minute. When they came back from the stadium earlier, he went with Jannik and Chris to the game room.

Sighing soundly, Jonas threads a hand through his hair. He felt good when they trained earlier; Celtic Park was great and the prospect of playing there tomorrow excited him. But as soon as they stepped inside the hotel, he remembered that soon he’d be alone with Andre—in a room with a double bed. That thought alone is enough to make him groan. The hotel doesn’t have so many twin rooms, which means that some get the double rooms. And knowing his luck, _of course,_ Jonas is one of them.

_Maybe he feels the same way._

That actually makes things worse. Jonas hates speculations—and complications. He doesn’t want to keep guessing whether Andre likes him or not. And even if he did, where should it take them? Jonas has been in this position before; he isn’t about to do it again. Life is easier when teammates remain teammates. Like after the Hamburg game, he almost couldn’t bring himself to change his clothes in front of Andre anymore. What a mess.

He lets out another sigh. They can’t keep going like this, but what is he supposed to do?

His heartbeat inevitably picks up pace as the door opens, and Andre walks in, taking his hoodie off and hanging it on the back of the chair near the table. He smiles when his eyes meet Jonas’. The dim lights faintly illuminate his skin, and it requires an extra effort for Jonas to dart his gaze away. But he did, although just. He looks at the table behind Andre, then at the turned off TV screen that reflects the paintings on the wall above his head.

“We played FIFA, and Chris wanted a rematch every time he lost,” Andre says as he sits on the end of the bed, taking his shoes off.

“Typical,” Jonas responds, allowing himself to look at his back, at his shoulder blades. Andre chuckles, and turns before Jonas has time to look away. _Shit._

Silence falls. Jonas can only hear his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. Then Andre slowly rises up, and sits down again on the bed opposite Jonas. Close, but at the same time isn’t close enough.

“Don’t you think we need to talk?” he asks in a gentle tone.

As if he’s in autopilot, Jonas finds himself nod.

”Things are changing between us. I think we both feel that,” Andre starts, his eyes never leave Jonas’. “I can’t see you merely as a teammate anymore.”

Although Jonas has kind of expected that, his heart is still doing a flip. There it is. It’s the confirmation that he needs. But it doesn’t make everything less confusing. He didn’t plan for any of this to happen, and he’s sure neither did Andre.

“Jonas?” Andre speaks again as Jonas remains quiet.

“I like you,” Jonas blurts out, feeling his face heat up. “I like you so much, I don’t know what to do about it.” Andre watches him with his kind, gentle eyes, as though encouraging Jonas to go on, “I didn’t want this to happen. I… have been there before, and it didn’t go so well.”

“Liking a teammate?”

Jonas nods. “The feelings were mutual. We were happy at the start, thinking we got a lot of time ahead of us. But then the loan to Mainz happened, and from there everything went downhill.” He lowers his eyes for a second before looking back up. “I thought he would still be there for me when I came back, didn’t think much about his feeling. We tried to patch things up after I was back, but when I decided to move here, it was the last straw. I don’t blame him, I really don’t. I wasn’t a good boyfriend, and he deserves so much better.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Andre tells him softly.

“Perhaps, it just wasn’t meant to be,” Jonas says, taking a deep breath. He blinks and hesitantly asks, “What are you going to do about this?”

Andre doesn’t reply right away. “To be honest with you, I’m not sure,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ve never felt anything like this about a teammate before.”

Somehow, Jonas likes the sound of it. “Not even Branne?”

Andre looks genuinely surprised. “No. Of course not. Branne is a good friend, but that’s all.” Jonas nods, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling, but the smile still escapes.

“I would like to give it a try, see where it takes us,” he says, eyes staring at Jonas’. “But only if you want it, too.”

If the warmth in his chest is an indication of anything, the answer is ridiculously clear. But a part of him is still hesitating. Isn’t it too soon to put his heart on the line again? “I’m not sure if I’m ready for another relationship,” he whispers. “But, I want this.” _You._

Andre looks at him for a moment. “We’ll take it slow,” he says, raising his hand to touch Jonas’ face, though barely. “As long as you want.” He’s about to pull his hand back, but Jonas grabs his wrist and leans towards his touch.

Jonas’ reply comes almost inaudibly, “I like that.”

Shifting closer, without pulling his hand, Andre places his other hand on the back of Jonas’ neck and murmurs, “I wish I could kiss you.” He gently presses his lips on Jonas’ temple. “But, this will have to do.”

A few moments must have passed before Jonas opens his eyes, isn’t even sure when he closed them. He’s still holding Andre’s hand, clutching it a bit firmly when he feels Andre is about to pull it back.

Andre smiles against his skin; the tip of his nose brushes Jonas’ cheek. “We should go to bed. It’s been a long day,” he says, slightly pulling away, and this time Jonas lets go of his hand.

“Yeah.” He nods, feeling a little embarrassed. _Which part of taking it slow that you don’t get?_

“Goodnight.” Andre reaches out and gently ruffles his hair.

Jonas looks at him, already wanting to touch him again. He’ll be close by, even as they sleep. The thought of that makes Jonas feel giddy, a bit light-headed, and at the same time, rather overwhelmed. Andre’s hand stays in his hair for one more second before moving down, slowly stroking his cheek with a thumb.  

 _It’s okay_. Whatever he’s feeling, Andre is feeling it, too.

He likes that thought.

“Goodnight.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any thought of how they'll take it slow? xD


End file.
